


Come Back to Me

by blueshadows



Series: On the Matter of Obedience [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Ending, Drabble, Fate, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Memory Loss, Questions, Redemption, Sane Voldemort, Tom Couldn't Let Go, harry died, post-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueshadows/pseuds/blueshadows
Summary: In which Harry is a lost soul, and Tom wants him back.After the events of Imperfect Refraction, under assumption of Harry's death, featuring a sane Voldemort/TomWhile not necessary, I do recommend reading the prequels (the ratings for the prequels are higher though so)





	Come Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I implied before that Imperfect Refraction and Perfect Obedience have multiple possible endings. This is just one of them, and one of the more (most?) fluffy ones of the whole series thus far.
> 
> A light read, not much angst at all, really, but hopefully, it'll pull just a bit at your heartstrings.

There was a man in front of him. Hair as dark as a moonless night, eyes red like rubies, and skin like alabaster, both pale and colorless. And yet, he knew that this man was not from here, that the lack of color meant nothing on him. He had probably always been that way, this man.

His hand reached for the man’s face, as if wanting to confirm that he was real, and inside of him was this ache that he couldn’t understand. 

His arm throbbed, though he didn’t know why. Just that it did and that there was a strange beat in his chest.

It felt like he ought to know what that beat meant. 

But it also felt like so long ago, when such things were concerns of his. Were they ever? He wasn’t sure. It was hard to be sure of anything. But there was that oddness in him now.

His arm throbbed.

His chest beat.

“Who are you?” He asked, bolder than he might’ve been, in another world, in another time, and yet more timid all the same.

“I’ve come to get you.”

“But I’m fine where I am.” But was he fine? His chest was beating faster, harder. His head spun.

“You belong by my side.”

The words seemed true, and yet false. More like a dream, an aspiration than a truth. “I was never by your side.”

Something flashed across the man’s face, too hard to read. “I want you to be.”

And a tear rolled down his cheek as he reached once more for the man. 

“You won’t leave me?”

“You’re the one who left me.”

It felt like his chest was going to burst open.

“I would never leave you.”

“And yet you left.” 

“I didn’t mean to. I don’t think. I don’t know. Who am I? Why am I here?”

And then he was enveloped in arms that were cool and yet shockingly warm.

“You’re mine. You’re here because I… made a mistake.” It was clear the words were hard for the man to get out, that such things were not things he said often, if at all. And yet here he was, saying it to him.

“But _who_ am I? And who are you?”

“Our story started long ago. We are one, separated by time and fate, pit against each other and kept apart, only to harm one another again and again. Until now.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t.”

“How can I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t.”

“Why do I still believe you?” Why did his chest hurt?

And then his face was tilted up, the top of his head kissed, then his lips. An apologetic hand ran along his arms, tracing the line of ache and curing it. His chest felt strange, but now he had a name for the strangeness. His heart. It was beating. How strange, it had never beat in this strange place before. A place so strange that he wasn’t sure he had a heart just a moment ago.

“Because I’ve come to take you back with me, and I’m sorry.” There was a pause, and then he was pulled closer still to the man. “Come back to me.”

And he knew, then, that there was no question about it. There was a pull that he couldn’t resist. 

“My name is Harry Potter, I think.”   
“It was and it is. Will you come back?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“I think you do, though you forgot so long ago.”

“Are you Tom?”

“I am.”

“Are you lonely?”

“More than I imagined I could be.”

“And you want me.”

“I do. I already asked you, and I’ll ask again. Will you come back to me?”

“I’ll come. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Thank you.”

And the look on Tom’s face was one Harry couldn’t quite describe, but it was as if he had found what he had been looking for after too long a time spent searching. As if he’d been desperate and ready to give up, and yet had stubbornly refused. As if this was something he needed, wanted, desired.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt warm.

“I’m back.”

“I don’t think you’ll be happy with me, when we’re back.”

“Well, that’s something we’ll just have to see, now isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”


End file.
